A kiss
by HaneGaNai
Summary: A silent touch. Warmth seeping thorough. Lingering. Spreading. Uttering love. A kiss. Now betaed!


**Title: **A kiss

**Pairing**: Ren/Ichi

**Genre**: Romance/Humor

**Rating**: M

**Warning**: yaoi

**Words**: 1,191

**Beta**: zealot1138

**A/N**: This was my first fic above 1,000 words, my first non-angsty fic. One of the few fics of mine that I actually like. And it's all thanks to zealot1138 that it's beated! Thank you!

**Summary**: _A silent touch. Warmth seeping through. Lingering. Spreading. Uttering love. A kiss._

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

--

How would you like to be kissed?

Should the kiss be long, deep and tender? Or maybe rough, hard and passionate? Maybe a mixture of both?

Would you fight for dominance or would you surrender from the very beginning? Would you like to be the one playing the explorer, learning about all the curves, shapes and taste? Or would you let your mouth be explored by the other's sensuous tongue?

Or maybe you don't like open-mouthed kisses? Maybe you want to just relish in the touch of the other's lips?

With whom would you like to share your first kiss?

Should it be spontaneous and with someone you've just met, leaving everything to the chemistry between the two of you?

A friend maybe? As an introduction to the world of warmth. A course with 'how to' and 'what to do'.

Or, being a romantic, with the one you want to spend the rest of your life with? With someone you love more than anything in the world? Someone who loves you just as much?

He managed to fulfill the last one. Well, in half at least. For it wasn't he who was kissed, but _who_ kissed. He was the one, who put his lips on the other's to seal those annoying words. He was the one, who relished in that touch, that taste, that smell, that feeling.

The only problem was – would he respond and kiss back? Or would he punch him in the face and tell him to forget about it. About the kiss.

The. Kiss.

It already happened.

How could he ever forget?

--

"I like you." Said the Redhead, his arm draped around Ichigo's shoulders, the teen holding him in the middle so he wouldn't trip or fall down. They were trying to get back safely to the Kurosaki Clinic after Ikkaku's birthday party. Of course, sake happened.

"Yeah, yeah." Agreed Kurosaki breathing heavily, having to almost carry the drunk Abarai. "We're best buds and so on. _Whatever_. Just shut up and move your damn legs, Pineapple. You weigh a fucking ton!"

"No, no, no," Renji shook his head. All the alcohol he drunk that night giving him courage. "I mean that… well… " Maybe not that much courage. "Damn. I'm in love with you."

A silent, shocked minute passed.

"You're completely smashed, moron, and you probably don't even know what you're talking about."

"You're the moron," Said Abarai. Flushed and with anger in his eyes. His pride a little hurt. "I'm not that drunk and I _know_ what I'm saying. I like you, Kurosaki Ichigo, more than a friend. A lot more."

"If it's not you, then it's me who's completely drunk."

"Gah! Are you retarded or something?" He stopped abruptly, almost sending both of them to the ground, caught the teen's face in his hands and pulled him in for a rough, passionate kiss. Ichigo just stood there bewildered. The Redhead finally tore apart from him and looked at him with burning eyes.

"… Huh?" He uttered after a few silent minutes.

"Oh, shut up." Renji grabbed him for another kiss shushing him finally.

--

"Tell me." He said tracing lazy patterns on the teen's back.

"Mmm?" Ichigo muttered sleepily in the crock of the Redhead's neck.

" Tell me."

"No." Answered the stubborn teen making himself more comfortable on the tanned chest he used as a pillow.

"Why not?"

"Because you already know."

"But I want you to admit it."He rolled them over now hovering above the teen. "Now, tell me, Strawberry," He purred in the teen's ear, nibbling at the lobe, but Ichigo just turned his head away. Never the one to give up, Renji moved lower nuzzling his neck. "Tell me." He nipped and sucked and kissed making the teen squirm under him.

"Nah." Abarai stopped in his ministrations and moved up to look Ichigo in the eyes and noticed a spark of playfulness there. And a grin.

"Oh, so that's how you want to play." A smirk. "Well, if you don't want to tell me I'll just have to make you moan it out" And he lowered his head again engulfing him in a lingering kiss, leaving him breathless. Then he moved lower, and lower, and lower bringing out gasps and moans and screams having his wish granted.

--

He's a maniac. An addict. A fucking Ichigo-holic.

He couldn't get enough of those sweet, pink lips – the gate to a hot, welcoming heaven of his own, tasting so sinfully _good_. Those lips, tracing down his jawline, his happily exposed neck, his tanned chest to finally shut his brain down and erase every coherent thought, sending him over the edge, above the stars.

And that tongue lapping at his navel and making him gig… er… chuckle and squirm beneath him. Playing with his nipples or licking his ear. Teasing his sweet spots. Or dancing with his tongue, fighting for dominance, and sometimes winning the battle to explore the already well-known cavern that belonged to his lover.

_Lover_.

His hands roaming and touching and holding and scratching and bruising. Even punching when punishing for teasing. Tracing lazy, meaningless patterns on his back while they're enjoying their precious time together.

His voice. Moaning, gasping, whimpering, screaming, whispering. So damn wanton. Or warm. Or grumpy. Or annoying. Or soft. Loving.

His taste – dark and spicy. Like a moonless night with a star-covered sky. Like blood pumping in his veins. Like… like… like Ichigo and nothing else. Like nothing in any of the worlds. Like nothing he could name with words.

Or the silky, soft skin. The adorable blush staining his cheeks. Long legs. Vibrant hair scattered all over the pillow.

But most of all, he loved his eyes. Those brown orbs filling him with unnamed, overwhelming feelings. So deep he just might drown in them. Those eyes looking at him with passion, need, lust. So soft, spreading warmth and making him fall for him over and over again. Those beautiful eyes uttering love.

He's a maniac tangled in his limbs.

--

"Say it."

" Hnn..."

"Say it."

"Oh, ok... I love you."

"Mmm," Kiss. "Again."

"I love you." And another.

"Again."

" I love you. I love you. I love you. Happy now?"

"Almost." A goofy grin.

"Can we continue?"

Nod.

"But first..."

"Oh, enough already." And they were reduced to a moaning blur of tangled bodies.

--

"Hhah... _Oh God_."

"You sure are vocal."

Gasp.

Smirk.

"Shut up and... Nnn... D-do that again..."

"You mean this?"

Smirk.

Thrust.

Moan.

"OH FUCK YES."

--

Red hair whispering against skin, long fingers threading thorough them soothingly. Beads of sweat staining two exhausted bodies holding each other close. Legs tangled. Both content and satisfied, minds working again, thoughts no longer incoherent, breaths slowing down.

How good it felt to just lay there together, relishing in their sweet time after. Falling asleep and feeling the other close, lulled by the other's heartbeat. Sweet dreams, arms wrapped, warmth seeping thorough.

And then, in the morning, a sweet smile, a sleepy "Hey there" or "Morning" and a soft, lingering kiss containing all the nights before and after.

A kiss uttering love.


End file.
